


Unorthodox Requests

by Silential



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Kylo Ren thinks he's a suave mofo but he's not, M/M, Matt gets to watch, Matt is ecstatic, Threesome, all of this is extremely consensual, bottom Techie, cuckholding, technienician, voyeur Matt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8404414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silential/pseuds/Silential
Summary: “I’m going to say yes." 
Matt liked Techie saying yes, he was ecstatic whenever he said yes, moaned a low and eager yes. But still, he couldn’t remember asking anything. “To what?”  “To Lord Ren's offer. And," the answer was quiet, a secret meant just for Matt, “I’m going to make a request of my own."  Matt could barely force out an answer, skating along the edge. “What is it?”  “That you get to watch.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the long awaited cuckholding threesome sequel to [The Small Things](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7256731), though it's not necessary to have read it to understand this. In short summary, Matt and Techie finally get to act on the cuckholding fantasies they discovered before. 
> 
> Come talk to me at [somethingstately](http://somethingstately.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!

_Requests._

They didn’t exist in the regulation handbook, not in any enforceable capacity anyway. Just the unspoken but somehow unbreakable code tucked away hidden like the whalebone supports of any military. They could take the form of something as concrete as a missive sent on a PAD or as ephemeral as a word spoken to a commanding officer, a whisper in the corridors passed _just among friends_. While under the Empire they had been as good as official summonses, in the interest of preventing resentment and unrest the First Order elite had wisely tempered the overtures into mere… _requests_.

Still, even if it was possible to refuse, most were answered. Rather enthusiastically even, if only to step for one moment beyond the entrenched slot that was one’s place in the Order and into another realm entirely where boundaries blurred. Grass was greener and all that, even if Matt could barely remember what the plant looked like.

Serve for more than a couple weeks though and it became more than apparent that not just anyone got requests. One stopped taking it personally after a while.

 _Troopers_ got requests. More than anyone, in fact. Hours spent in training and a carefully monitored diet hewed muscle from softness, wove seven layers of stamina from the mental and physical weaknesses that plagued the rest of the general population. Five seconds spent in the Finalizer’s extensive training facilities provided more than enough evidence to suggest why a trooper’s designation might be the guilty pleasure burrowed among the clinical words of a half-written request on an officer’s PAD screen.  

For that matter, _officers_ got requests. Stunted by the rigidity of military hierarchy, formal requests offered a sort of formula, a sanctioned channel that wouldn’t upset the natural order. Proximity to power melded with a clean-cut figure generated enough interest in its own right, and though Matt came as close to officers as he did to Rodian leech mold, he could vaguely see the appeal. People talked, they always did, and apparently it was a bit of a running joke among the crew that someday, someone would request the General. Wisely for all involved, it was a _someday_ not a _some day_ sort of joke.   

 _Technicians_ did not get requests. 

Not from troopers, and definitely not from officers. No one ever noticed the background presence of the worker drone, clocking in and out for their shift, largely removed from the greater mechanisms of the ship. They were vital to its structural operation – but so was a cog, fitted against so many other cogs and indistinguishable from its brethren. Among their own, the technicians never saw the point for the practice; they largely seemed to bypass the process entirely and simply coalesce into some kind of agreement, be it relationship or otherwise. It worked, and that was enough.

There was one truth that held constant across all classes, however. No one, but no one, ever received a request from Lord Ren.

Until, somehow, Techie had.

They sat staring at the notification, thigh brushing thigh on the stone mattress that refused to do more than budge under the combined weight. Matt’s fingers trailed over the shimmering screen, the array of pixels that from a distance arranged itself into the written personification of the man himself.  Though that wasn’t quite right, _man,_ as if Lord Ren could be summed up in so simple and pedestrian a word. Lord Ren was a conduit for the energy of the very Universe itself. He smote his enemies, outranked even the General, and wherever he walked, the air crackled, as much from the waves of power rolling off bone-blackened robes as the saber often lit in one strong hand.

And this was… his request.

The solid proof lied in his hands and still, he could barely believe it. A scant few sentences, addressed to Techie’s identification string and signed at the bottom.

 _Kylo Ren_.

His heart thrummed behind the clasp of his ribcage. It pulsed loud in his ears.

One corner of Matt’s brain jogged to life. Between his heart and the erratic sputtering of his brain, he felt like he was skipping beats, losing seconds. “ _How?”_

Techie’s eyes never left the screen, sniper sight of his large pupils leaving little to the imagination. One thin shoulder rose, poised high for a moment too long like the marionette of an inattentive puppeteer before falling again. “I might have a guess.”

 Matt could only wait, the staccato of his heart pricking in his chest. “Yeah?”

“I wasn’t exactly making up the story I told you, when, you _know_ ,” Techie’s voice dropped, red-rust blooming faintly on his cheeks at the memory of the fantasy he'd woven for Matt. One hand left its grip on the PAD to tighten around Matt’s thigh, pale fingertips stained blue with something Matt couldn’t identify. He squeezed, barely indenting the muscle underneath the rough uniform. “Ren came in while I was fixing a console, talking to himself. And he did stare right at me.”

The words pinged into Matt’s brain, but Techie cut off the brewing questions with a sheepish, “He didn’t really take his mask off though. That part was made-up.”

“So he just… stared at you?” Matt couldn’t blame him. Matt stared at Techie all the time.

Matt also stared at Lord Ren.

He swallowed.

Techie nodded, the ends of his hair stuck still where they hung limp against his neck. “For a few moments and then he left.”

His thumb rubbed small circles into Matt’s thigh, too much pressure behind the motion to be instinctive. Instead of soothing, the touch sent sparks burrowing into his skin. Techie wasn’t often the one to reach for _him_ , and he was doing it _now –_

Matt fought to get his breathing under control.

Gears clicked in his head, thoughts stretching to make the leap required to connect _staring_ to _requests the time and presence of_. He had to be missing something, that or he was dreaming, about to wake with his hips rutting against the mattress and a wet surprise streaking his briefs. “He sees people every day though. Probably stares at them too, you just can’t tell with the, the,” Matt stammered, gestured to his face, “apparatus.”

“Probably not people like me,” Techie murmured. He punctured the comment with a deliberate focus change, the mechanism shifting his pupil from polygon to polygon as it whirred to life. They flicked too quickly in their sockets to be natural.

And he hadn’t blinked in minutes.

Matt shrugged, honestly a little pleased that he and Lord Ren apparently shared the same taste. His lover was nothing if not wonderfully, beautifully _distinctive_. A collection of what many might consider less than attractive traits that had convened and somehow decided they were, well, quite extremely attractive.

Thoughts clicked behind the slight narrowing of Techie’s eyes, brows scrunching. “I’ve seen him more since then. He always seems to be _right there_ ,” Techie held up a hand next to his face, irises sliding to eye it sideways, “just out of sight.”

The words drifted in the air between them, the feeble bridge his mind had been seeking. He had to stop himself before he could race across it, trusting it blindly to hold his weight, no matter how he desperately wished to. Apparently not getting the memo, images that had crept into his brain as Techie rode him flashed by.

_A sea of black curling against long pale limbs, a flash of red, held in a gloved fist –_

Matt forced himself to look Techie in the eye. He struggled to keep his face blank, his hand coming to rest over Techie’s.

He wet his lips. “It’s your choice.”

And he meant it. No fantasy was worth losing _this_ ; even the thought had his heart skipping for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you. I’ll think about it.” The words were quiet, and Matt felt like he knew them before they even hit the air. “For now though, I’d like to forget about it.”

Right. _Forget about it._

“Fine by me.”

Leaning in, Matt tilted his head, mindful of the rather large radius of his glasses. Even with the way he shifted, they brushed against Techie’s cheek. He gently pressed his lips to Techie’s, softly taking one plump lip between his own.

 

\------

 

Life continued.

And Matt tried to forget about it. With as much constant maintenance as a Star Destroyer required, it wasn’t terribly difficult to do.  

Shifts rolled around and he slogged through them, counting down the seconds until he could hang up his tools and sprawl on his tiny bed, arms slipping around his lover. Being a radar technician wasn’t glorious, wasn’t memorable, but it paid decently well and it gave him the added civic benefit of serving his Empire. Granted the concept was a little more abstract than he tended to entertain, but a greater sense of purpose never hurt anyone. 

Tonight was the first night in a week their schedules matched; Matt having been relegated to gamma shift on an extensive overhaul of the spectrum emitters on Deck 34. He’d run on gallons of caf and the kisses stolen in the brief twilight of overlap, the soft touches  that lingered on his face like stubble for hours after, wedged into a machine far larger than himself. Shifts blended into shifts, and it had taken an entire rotation spent awake followed by a night of dead sleep, but he was finally back on alpha shift.

And Techie was finally back on _him_.

For once his lover consisted of more than an outline in the darkness. The dim glow from the wall panel fixture skimmed his shoulders, burnishing the red of his hair and tucking shadows into the divot of his waist. Techie had been the one to click off the torch after Matt had positioned it in its usual spot, leaving Matt confused and a little disappointed. That was until –

 _Lights. Twenty percent_.

The disappointment had vanished and excitement crashed in faster than darkness did after the light was extinguished. Whether from pent-up desire or slowly flourishing confidence, Matt couldn’t say what had brought about the change in milieu. But finally able to bask in the pleasure on Techie’s face – and oh how beautifully expressive it was – he wasn’t complaining.

Matt’s fingers sank into the slim-soft flesh of Techie’s thighs, light dusting of hair tickling his palms. They were supple despite the buried muscle shifting underneath, somewhere deep if he squeezed hard enough. Matt’s knees were bent upward, upper thighs flush with the cushion of Techie’s ass. The angle had Techie hunched forward, belly pooching into a gentle curve, one hand grazing the wall as the other steadied himself on Matt’s chest. Matt welcomed the weight, half-dazzled by the meteor shower of red that swayed in time with hips and breath, the slow undulation of his own body and the one that met each half-thrust.

And Techie rode him slowly, deliberately, seemingly in no rush to end it. Matt could have barreled over the edge after a minute with the way Techie rolled his hips, inelegant but eager. The gentle bob of the flushed cock so near yet so far from his mouth.

He bit the inside of his cheek, riding the wave without letting it break. It would make the eventual fall all the sweeter. Eyes falling shut for just a moment, he zeroed in on the quickened breath, the torn gasp as Matt dragged against an especially sensitive place. Matt lived for those sounds. They dropped like sweet fruit from sweeter lips.

He watched those lips part, tongue flashing out to draw across them. Something crossed Techie’s face, but it was gone before Matt could analyze it, swallowed by the flashbang smoothing of pleasure that followed. Mouth almost slack, Techie peered down through lowered lashes, translucent against his cheeks. “I’m going to say yes.”

Matt liked Techie saying _yes_ , he was ecstatic whenever he said _yes,_ moaned a low and eager  _yes_. But still, he couldn’t remember asking anything. “To what?”

His words were low, a secret meant just for Matt. “To Lord Ren.”

Oh.

His mouth opened, the words sinking into a brain wholly preoccupied with the wet heat engulfing his dick, the pretty mouth he’d reddened with kisses.

_Oh._

Techie ground his hips, taking him as deep as he could go. It pulled a moan from Matt, catching low in his throat. He’d closed the door on that pipe dream, tucking it away as a pleasant fantasy – the surprised wrench of it into reality had his thoughts spinning, almost gasping. Techie was leaking, he could see, clear fluid beading at the tip to dribble down over his head and onto Matt’s torso. Entranced by the sight, he grabbed the hand pushing down into his chest. Their fingers entwined briefly before Matt curled it over the warm line of Techie’s flushed cock, pumping his lover’s hand in long strokes.

Techie leaned heavily into the wall, a groan dropping from full lips.

Matt couldn’t keep the pleading rasp out of his voice, wanting to hear Techie talk about it, needing him to talk about it. “Tell me why you want him to fuck you.” Techie _wanted it_ , wanted Lord Ren inside him, bringing him pleasure – Matt choked out, “ _Please_." 

He could feel himself speeding headlong for the cliff, the way Techie squeezed almost painfully tight stoking the burn low in his gut.

Techie was moving faster now, the sound of slick and the slap of his ass against Matt’s thighs punctuating his words. They came fast now too, hushed and desperate. He set a bruising pace on his own cock, fist tighter than Matt had ever dared touch him. “I want to know all about him. What he looks like. What he sounds like.”

Matt could have barked out a laugh, hands sliding upwards to dig into Techie’s hips. Not pulling, just feeling, along for the ride. He bit it back. “We know what he sounds like.”

“Not when he comes,” Techie gasped out, the idea almost enough to have Matt following right there. “I want to know what that kind of power feels like. To make a man like Lord Ren unable to do anything but come.”

“And would you?”

Techie nodded, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. “I wouldn't be able to help it, it would feel so good. I'd want to last, I'd want to come home to you, still hard and aching for you to fill me up. And I'd be so loose, he would've stretched me out, and I would have to walk back to you with his come still dripping out of me, and - ”  

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Matt hissed, feeling his balls begin to tighten. 

“I’m going to make a request of my own,” Techie said.

Matt could barely force out an answer, skating along the edge. “What is it?”

“That you get to watch.”

And like that, Matt’s world went white, phosphene fireworks exploding behind his eyelids as they slammed shut. A dull roar filled his head, the world compressing to _hot wet tight_ and little else. Lips zipped, a moan tore at the seam, clawing its way up his throat. He could feel the spasms of his cock, spurting white as Techie tightened around him, milking him through it, taking everything he had to give.

Techie slowed, and Matt opened his eyes, blinking dazedly upwards. Techie stroked his softening cock, the mess coating slim fingers dripping lazily onto Matt’s stomach. If he’d made any noise as he’d found his own end, the deafening rush in Matt’s ears had blocked it out.

A smile curled the corner of Techie’s mouth, open in a pant as he tried to catch his breath. “Would you be okay with that?”

Feeling his heart struggling to slow, Matt searched his gut for where jealousy should have been; he found only excitement and a jealousy-sized hole. Anyone else and he would have been banging on their door and dragging them into the hallway, his fists reacting without input from his brain. But Ren?

A lingering shiver rippled through him as he slipped out of Techie. His smile was probably crooked, uneven like the rest of him.

“I think it’s pretty obvious I’d be more than okay.”

  

\------

 

It took only a day to receive a reply.

_Terms accepted. Mid- beta shift._

So simple, nothing further. Not even signed this time, though the identity was obvious. A location wasn’t included either, and it wasn’t needed. Repair requests tended to radiate outward from Ren’s private quarters like the lowest electron orbital; there wasn’t a competent technician aboard the ship who hadn’t spent a disproportionate amount of time within a corridor or two’s distance of them.

Their shoes thudded dully on the floor, slightly off-step from each other even as each tried subconsciously to fall in line. Matt felt like a rubber band had been attached just behind his navel, ring drawn taut by some hand he couldn’t see. The fullness of expectation stretched him – or was it the stretch of expectation filled him? He couldn’t decide.

Instead he glanced over at Techie, quietly admiring the gentlest of waves to his freshly showered hair. Matt had stood in the sonic with him, wishing it were the spray of real water as he carded his fingers through the limp strands. Afterward they’d arranged it to pleasantly frame his face, a sharp contrast to the usual haphazard mess eager hands and his pillow tended to leave it. Matt had dabbed at the corners of his eyes, delicately trying to remove the gunk that looked suspiciously like rust that Techie, through apathy or forgetfulness or both, let build up. Body scrubbed by two sets of hands, and one mouth too as Matt hadn’t been able to resist pressing kisses to his jaw, his neck – he smelled faintly of regulation soap, simple and clean. Neither of them were really sure what to do beyond that, there hadn’t been any instruction to do anything in particular beforehand.

Matt wished there had been. Though he didn’t bother saying anything, the idea of Lord Ren spelling out exactly how he wanted Techie to ready himself had Matt twitching in his trousers whenever he thought about it.

Which was, honestly, quite a lot.

He was already starting to feel it and they had only now reached the desired deck. As they drew closer to their destination the corridors emptied of people, most instinctively avoiding the force user’s space and deciding a two minute detour was well worth the hassle. It meant that no one was around to see them draw up short in front of the nondescript door, looking humbly like the thousands of others lining the vasculature of the ship.

Techie’s thumb found a call button on the console. His fingers were still faintly pink from the rough washing it had taken to remove a week’s worth of stains. Long and elegant, Matt looked for a quake to his hands but could find none.

They waited. Matt swallowed, thoughts of the past hour scattering like debris from a cannon hit.

_Should we be preparing you?_

_Maybe he wants to do it himself._

_You probably won’t get to ride him._

_I know._

_You’d be okay with that?_

_I wouldn’t have accepted if I wasn’t._

Matt brushed Techie’s hand, the pads of his fingertips barely grazing his palm. Pale eyelashes lowered briefly, kissing cheeks already splotching with color. Matt hoped to whoever was listening it was in anticipation, with heat burning low in his stomach.

Maker take him, he was gorgeous.

_What happens if he hurts you?_

_I requested he not._

_What if he does?_

_And you’ll what, use the Force?_

_But what happens if he’s rough?_

_Then you’ll just have to be gentle for awhile._

The reminder that Techie would be coming back with _him_ , hopefully blissed out and fucked open, had his dick swelling further. They weren’t even inside and Matt couldn’t wait to inspect him, spread his cheeks, touch him where Lord Ren had touched him – 

The door slid open with a hiss, the interior a dark maw beyond. A second crawled by, split into two, and curved back around for a third pass.

Techie moved first, the clinical light of the ship corridor slipping from his shoulders like a cape, his footsteps ringing surprisingly loud in the quiet. When Matt followed over the threshold, he realized the echo was enhanced by the sheer _emptiness_ of the place; there wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the decent sized room, one which Matt figured was supposed to serve as a little sitting-area. Then again, what did he know? His bunk constituted his bed, couch, and table, and a radar technician never had a reason to enter a senior officer’s quarters. Techie though had seen more than a few as he tended to their private computers, and he made for the second doorway on the right.

Matt lagged a little behind, butterflies already fluttering pleasantly in his stomach. His head swam, and it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other and ignore the half-hard bulge stuffed ungainly in his trousers. His collar felt tight, back flushed and clammy under his shirt. The thought of preparing Techie for Lord Ren had personally escorted him to orgasm more times than he could count, but even in his wildest fantasies he hadn’t dreamed of being allowed to _watch_ them fuck. But he was here, now, in Ren’s very quarters, Techie shooting him a nervous smile as Matt caught up and activated the door panel.

 _He was going to get to see Lord Ren._ Not through a camera, not second-hand through Techie’s descriptions or the distorted lens of his own fantasies. But really _see_ what so few others were gifted the honor.

Matt gritted his teeth, fingers unconsciously seizing in the fabric of his trousers. He wasn’t even the one about to be fucked and his body couldn’t have been more responsive if he was. Kriff he couldn’t even imagine what Techie was feeling. Was he excited, hard and leaking in his briefs? Matt licked his lips, gaze flicking down to check but unable to see much in the relative dimness. He’d soon find out, he figured, as the door to what had to be the bedroom neatly retracted into the wall. When it had completely withdrawn and the bedroom was revealed, Matt was conscious of three truths at the exact same time.

The first was that the bedroom was brighter than the foyer. Not by much, but enough. It was nearly as empty with only the bed and a desk.

The second was that it was occupied.

And the third, most blinding of all, was that Techie had ironically been completely right.  Without his mask, without cloak and cowl and the hissing spitting thing that was his saber – Lord Ren was _gorgeous._

He leaned against a desk, chin tilted down in thought but snapping up as soon as they entered. Long black hair haloed his face, lightly skimming a narrow jaw and high cheekbones. A large nose, broad and dignified like the crease of his lips. They echoed Matt’s, he couldn’t help but notice, refracted not reflected. If they’d been cut from the same cloth originally Matt’s had found its way into the coarse weave of a nerf herder and Lord Ren was resplendent, fit for royalty itself. Arms crossed, the sleeveless undershirt he wore only accentuated the sheer size of his biceps, the smooth lines of sinew that Matt had no doubt could throw him halfway across the room even without the Force.

The man’s very presence seemed to suck all the air out of the room. Or at the very least it sucked all the air out of Matt, and he found himself almost gasping.

Techie was one lucky, lucky man.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me at [somethingstately](http://somethingstately.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!


End file.
